The Invincible Hero
by WirelessGrapes
Summary: Pyrrha Nikos thought she was going to die atop Beacon Tower. Much to her surprise, she wakes up in a hospital bed, being questioned by men in spandex costumes.
1. Chapter 1-1

Colin was annoyed.

This wasn't a particularly unusual occurrence, though it wasn't that he didn't like the people he worked with, nor the work itself. It was just the fact that, at almost any given point when he wasn't Tinkering, he could be doing something much more worthwhile.

Namely, Tinkering.

As his motorcycle cornered a turn, his mind wandered to his latest collaboration with Dragon, the Endbringer prediction program. If they managed to _predict_ where Endbringers would attack next, they would gain worldwide fame, and save millions of lives in the process.

He shook his mind from his more important work to attempt to bring his focus to the _incredibly_ boring patrol he was currently on. It was the graveyard shift, and the gangs were in a lull. It would be unlikely that any of the major players would make a move for a few weeks, beyond some minor tagging and fortifying of their borders.

Of course, during the fortification process, any mook could start a minor fight with another mook, to which others would _have_ to respond, and then the capes would _have_ to get involved, and then he would have actual, useful work to do on patrol. Getting in fights was the only thing other than Tinkering that he found to be useful, as what was the point of Tinkering, if those designs were never used in the field?

But, until then, all he had to do was drive around the route and try to stave off bor-

" _Absolutely nothin' going on tonight, bossman._ "

Colin grated his teeth at the radio intrusion. Once Assault started chattering aimlessly over the radio, there would be no stopping him. He'd hoped to get through at least half of the shift without interruption, but apparently the boredom had gotten to the Striker first.

" _Helloooooo, Armsy? You there? C'mon buddy, talk to me._ "

Fighting off the desire to pinch the bridge of his nose, Colin called over the comms, hardly keeping the derision out of his voice, "Assault, please refrain from cluttering the radio unless you are calling in something."

He could just imagine the eye roll Assault was giving him as he resonded, " _Please, the only action we're gonna get tonight is-Oh shit, hold on, I got something over here._ "

Colin praised every deity that he didn't believe in that something had cut off the inappropriate joke that Assault was undoubtedly about to make, as the red suited hero continued his report.

" _Yeah, on 5th Street, between Lords and Maple, I got a probable cape unconscious in an alley. I don't recognize the costume._ "

A quick glance at the street sign above told him that he was only 3 blocks away from the reported call. Of course, that would put Assault off of his assigned patrol route, but that could be dealt with later.

"On my way."

A quick turn down the next street, and an acceleration pulled him into view of the other hero, who was knelt down in the entrance to the alley with his hand on the unknown cape.

The girl on the ground was wearing an incredibly professional costume, a slightly revealing gladiator outfit with her shoulders and cleavage exposed, a tiara holding her vibrant red hair down, and gloves and greaves covering her forearms and shins.

Lying on the ground next to her were an ornate bronze shield and a well built sword of the same color.

* * *

 _Pyrrha looked up at the woman standing above her defiantly._

 _She had nothing left to give. No Aura left for her to try to attack. Her sword and shield lost amongst the rubble at the top of the ruined Beacon Tower._

 _Cinder Fall stalked over to the kneeling girl, drawing her bow._

 _Pyrrha met her eyes, verdant green meeting fiery gold, she gasped out, "Do you, believe, in destiny?"_

 _Cinder's eyes narrowed as she smirked victoriously._

 _"Yes."_

 _The arrow flew true from the short distance, driving through her chest, and hitting her heart. Pyrrha felt her breath stop. She didn't feel the pain of the wound as she choked for breath._

 _Gasping, she convulsed on her knees, her vision swimming, and her thoughts losing focus._

 _She felt a hand caress her cheek._

 _Pyrrha Nikos faded away in the breeze, falling into the blackne-_

Pyrrha shot up from the bed she was lying on, gasping heavily as she regained breath. Her heart raced as she started to scan the room, her body tensin-

"Woah, woah, easy there, girl. Nobody's gonna hurt you. You're safe here."

Pyrrha recoiled at the soft voice, her tension fading away. She felt just how tired she was, the remnants of her Aura starting to reform did nothing to rebuild her strength. She looked up to see a man in a rust-red uniform and a half mask standing over her, his hand pressed softly, but firmly, against her shoulder. He was smiling.

"That's it," he spoke in that same soft voice, "Just relax, you're gonna be fine. Just catch your breath, and relax."

Pyrrha took heavy breaths, exultant in the moment that she could breath, remembering being unable to breath just moments ago. She looked around the room she was in.

It was a standard looking hospital room, white walls and sheets, machines beeping and whirring. It didn't look like any hospital she'd ever been in, but it was a hospital. Another man stood on the other end of the room, wearing what looked to be...power armor?

That was strange, he didn't look like an Atlas soldier, though the colors were the same, and why would an Atlesian soldier be in her hospital room?

She started to recover her breath, taking shallower and shallower heaves. The man in the red outfit continued to murmur words of encouragement and relaxation, and Pyrrha felt her heart rate dip back to normal.

"That's it," the man cooed, "That's it, just relax now. Everything's fine. Can you tell me your name?"

She looked up at him quizzically, he didn't know who she was? That was odd, most everyone on Remnant knew her face. Maybe he was seeing if she had a concussion.

She cleared her throat, "My name is Pyrrha Nikos."

He looked taken aback, and Pyrrha curled in on herself. He did recognize her.

To her surprise, the oddly dressed man did not apologize, nor did he seem amazed, rather he babbled nervously, "No, no, I meant your cape name."

Cape name? What did he mean by that?

She tilted her head at him confused by his words. He looked at her expectantly, "Y'know, like your hero name, or whatever."

"I, um," she responded hesitantly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

The red man shot a glance at the not-Atlesian soldier, and he nodded back. The red man turned back to her, asking, "What's the last thing you remember?"

She looked up at him nervously, then back down at her lap.

He made a confirmatory noise, then began to speak once more, "I see, you'r-"

"I was on top of Beacon Tower," she interrupted him, as he recoiled, "I was fighting this woman, she, she wanted to destroy the school, and, and..."

"Hey, hey, hey," he started to babble again, "just relax, Pyrrha. Um, what's Beacon? Is that some kind of college or something?"

She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped, and tried again, "You know, the huntsmen school? Beacon?"

The red man opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, then tilted his head in thought.

"Hey," he started slowly, "This might be a weird question, but what's the name of your planet?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, that was an odd question. She thought she might as well humor him, "Remnant."

He perked up, outstretching his hand, "Well, that explains it. Very well, my name is Assault, and I would like to officially welcome you to Earth Bet!"

Pyrrha's eyes widened.

 _WHAT!_


	2. Chapter 1-2

**EDITED VERSION**

Ethan wasn't stupid.

He could be called many things, impulsive, lazy, arrogant, easy-going, but stupid was not one of his characteristics. Most of his team forgot that underneath the jolly veneer of Assault, lied the cunning of a man who spent years breaking people out of transport to the world's only inescapable prison, the Birdcage, and was only taken in when he wanted to be taken in.

His specialty was in people. Ethan simply _got_ people.

And, so, when Pyrrha's eyes widened, her muscles tensed, and her back went rigid, he knew that he had to calm the situation.

"Woah, woah, Pyr," he started to babble, opening his palms to the universal language for 'slow down', "No need to freak out, here, we'll figure this out."

He doubted that Pyrrha was even listening to his words at this point, but his calm tone obviously had an effect on the girl, as she relaxed back into the hospital bed. Internally, Ethan breathed a big sigh of relief. Capes and freak outs were a recipe for disaster.

Then again, maybe this girl wasn't even a parahuman. She didn't recognize the word 'cape', and that was literally in the dictionary as an alternate definition for a parahuman now. Even on Earth Aleph, with their minute amount of capes, the word existed.

He honestly wasn't surprised to find out that Pyrrha was from an alternate Earth. She spoke English without a hint of an accent, so she had to be from an English speaking country. The way she talked about Beacon made it seem like a household name, and he had no idea what she was talking about. What did she call it, a 'Huntsmen Academy'? What was a huntsmen? Maybe that was the word for parahuman on her alternate Earth.

He glanced back towards Armsmaster, "Hey, boss, can we get her some food?"

The Tinker's lips pursed for a moment, before he nodded, "That'd be a good idea."

He turned back to the slightly frazzled, but now calm Pyrrha, "You feel up to get some food from the cafeteria?"

She checked herself over for a moment before looking back at him, "Yes, my Aura seems to have recovered the worst of my injuries, I should be fine."

His eyebrows shot up. "Aura?" he asked, before catching himself, "Wait, wait, no, let's get food now, questions can happen later."

She gave him a very thankful smile, and he felt himself grin back.

He reached his hand back to her, "C'mon, we've got some great burgers here. You'd be surprised how good the cafeteria is here."

* * *

Pyrrha pulled herself out of the bed, and gingerly took steps towards the red suited man. Surprisingly, her footing was very solid, despite her extremely low Aura levels, and she was walking fine after a few strides.

Before they got to the door, Assault looked back, asking, "Hey, Armsmaster, you wanna come with us?"

The man in question glanced up with a hum, shaking himself from his thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, no, I'll have paperwork to do and a briefing to give. I'll contact you when I need you."

He waved back with a jovial smile, "Alright, Bossman, your loss."

Before Armsmaster could give another retort, he gestured for Pyrrha to leave, and the two left the armored man alone in the hospital room.

About halfway down the hallway, Assault slowed down and looked over his shoulder. "We should be in the clear, Armsy probably won't bother us for a while."

Pyrrha caught up to him, huffing slightly, "Shouldn't you have more respect for your leader?"

He waved her off, "Bah, it's Armsy, he just wants to be left alone with his tinker stuff. He's probably glad we left him honestly, I just don't want him to ask you questions right now."

She frowned, thinking of her own leader back at Beacon, "He doesn't seem like much of a leader, then."

Assault shrugged, "He's honestly a good fighter, and he's got seniority over most of us."

Pyrrha hummed noncommittally. "If you insist."

"So!" Assault started, changing the subject abruptly, "I'm sure you have a _ton_ of questions about where you are right now."

Pyrrha glanced at him, allowing the change in subject, "I do."

He clapped his hands together, "Alright, Earth 101, what do you want to know first?"

She stopped in the hallway and quirked an eyebrow at him, taking in his outfit. "Well, I suppose I am curious about the whole 'outfit and mask' thing. Huntsmen usually wear colorful clothing, but they usually do show their face."

Assault hummed, "That's actually kind of a tough question. C'mon, let's keep walking."

Continuing down the hall, Assault started to lecture.

"Basically, about 30 years ago, this golden man named Scion appears in the sky, and everyone freaks out. All the sudden, people start Triggering with superpowers."

Pyrrha nodded, taking note of the emphasis on 'trigger'.

He kept going at the acknowledgement, "So, people start to think of this like the old comic books-you guys have comics on Remnant, right?"

Pyrrha nodded slowly, remembering how Jaune always was getting the newest issue of X-Ray and Vav. "Yes, we did, though I don't think they wore masks. Nobody really had anything to hide with Huntsmen."

"Huh", Assault added vaguely, "That's kinda weird. Um, anyways, a big thing in Earth comic books is secret identities. So, when the world starts to act like a comic book..."

"People start to wear masks." Pyrrha finished.

He smiled smugly, "Exactly. Plus, it does provide protection from villains coming after heroes like me outside of work. Being a hero is kinda like a 9-5 job around here. You guys have villains in Remnant?"

"Not particularly," Pyrrha admitted, "There are criminals, but most combat capable people are used to fight the Grimm."

Noticing the faraway look that Pyrrha was started to get, Assault cleared his throat loudly to pull Pyrrha back to him, "Alright, so right now, you're in a city called Brockton Bay."

Pulled out of her reminiscence, Pyrrha nodded, then comprehended what she was just told. "Right, Brockton Bay."

"Yep, and, more specifically, you're at the PRT Headquarters."

Pyrrha quirked an eyebrow, "PRT?"

He snapped his fingers admonishing himself. "Right, can't use acronyms. Uh, it stands for Parahuman Response Teams, and they're the government organization in charge of the Protectorate, which is the United States' Hero team."

She continued for him, "And the United States is the name of your kingdom?"

Assault paused, his mouth open as he was about to speak. "Uh, no. We use the word 'country' instead of kingdom. Haven't had kingdoms for a while."

Pyrrha looked thoughtfully. "Huh."

Assault cleared his throat again, "Anyways, the PRT is pretty much our overseers. They're in charge of our rules, our budgets, and our patrols. They have some pretty big control over our PR too."

"PR?" Pyrrha asked, "Why do you need to worry about PR?"

Assault responded, "Well, for the most part, a lot of being a Hero is convincing people they're safe. A big part of my job is public outreach, rather than fighting crime."

Pyrrha hummed noncommittally once more, as they reached a set of double doors. Assault pushed them open, revealing a bustling cafeteria.

"C'mon," he gestured Pyrrha inside, "We can continue after we eat."

* * *

"I have no idea how you ate that much, and look like that."

Pyrrha looked up from the remnants of her fifth 'burger', some kind of odd sandwich thing that Assault had recommended. It was weird, but good. The man in question had his mouth hanging open slightly as he held a 'fry' from his single plate.

Pyrrha smirked, Assault had been making jokes the whole time, perhaps now she could give it back to him.

Schooling her features, she narrowed her eyes at him, "And what do you mean by that?"

He jumped back playfully, "No, no, not like that, I meant, like that's a lot of food, and you look great, pleasedon'thitmeIgetenoughofthatfrompuppy." He raised his hands to shield himself.

Pyrrha giggled freely, throwing a fry at the costumed man, "No, no, it's quite alright. I'm rather confused myself of how you maintain your Aura while eating so little."

Assault took notice of the word 'Aura' and returned to a more serious mood, "Alright, Pyrrha, now seems like a pretty good time to get to those questions."

Letting her laughter slow to a halt, she adjusted herself in her chair, "Right, well, what do you wish to know?"

He placed his elbows on the table, "Let's start with your 'Aura'," putting finger quotes around the word. "You've mentioned that a couple of times, what is it?"

Pyrrha cleared her throat. "Aura is the manifestation of our souls," she recited, "It bears our burdens and shields our hearts."

Blinking away the water in her eyes at the familiar words. The last time she recited that lesson was to Jau-

She shook her head, no time to dwell on that right now, "Um, anyways, Aura is essentially the weaponization of your soul, us Huntsmen use them to fight the Grimm." Pausing, she lifted an eyebrow and looked up at him, "Speaking of which, if you do not understand Aura, how do you combat the Grimm?"

His head tilted to the side (Pyrrha noted that his body language was particularly dramatic given his half hidden face), and asked, "What're the Grimm?"

Pyrrha gasped, "You-you don't have Grimm here? How does that even happen? What are-"

"Hey, hey," he interrupted, bringing his arms up again, "Relax, Pyr. Remember, alternate world, different things."

Pyrrha blushed at the nickname, that was what Jaune called her. She cleared her throat once more, "Right, of course."

She looked up at him apologetically, "Sorry about that, I'm still a little out of sorts."

Assault rested his hand on her arm, "Hey, you're fine, no need to apologize, you're in a whole new world, without a magic carpet."

Upon seeing Pyrrha's confusion, he coughed, "Pop culture reference, sorry. So, back to the question, what are the Grimm?"

Pyrrha bit her lip, thinking of how to describe the representations of evil. "Grimm," she began slowly, "are monsters. They're an endless horde of snarling beasts that feed upon the negative emotions of humans and Faunus. Huntsmen are trained to defend the kingdoms of Remnant, using Aura, semblances, and weapons. If we fall, the world falls with us."

Assault had a solemn expression, as he offered, "And, these Huntsmen Academies you mentioned...?"

Pyrrha nodded, "That's where we learn to combat the Grimm."

Assault whistled, "That sucks."

"That it does."

The pair sat in silence, Pyrrha occasionally eating a fry from her plate. After a minute, Assault broke the silence.

"Well, I would ask about what happened, right before you woke up here..."

Pyrrha's throat tightened, and she curled in on herself.

"...But I think that might be a sensitive topic," he finished with a grimace.

A chime broke the awkward silence between them, and Assault pulled out what seemed to be an odd looking Scroll before checking it and putting it away. He stood up, looking down at Pyrrha, "Well, that's the boss' boss. C'mon, kid, time to see what we're gonna do with you?"

She stood up, quirking an eyebrow, "What do you mean, 'do with me'?"

Assault chuckled dryly, "C'mon, what'd you expect. You're basically an alien, you're gonna cause so much paperwork, it'll be insane."

AN: Continuing the necessary exposition-y bits. We should get at least a training spar by 1.4, so action will be coming soon. Get ready to meet the Director next!


	3. Chapter 1-3

**AN: Sorry for the accidental troll with the "delay notice". I didn't like what I had, got some good feeback against it, and decided to change it. Here's the chapter.**

Emily had a headache.

Given the fact that she was a Director for the Parahuman Response Team and the tendency for those in high stress jobs like hers to suffer headaches, having a headache wasn't particularly noteworthy.

However, Emily could say for certain this would be the biggest headache she'd ever have.

Bigger than the week when she had to meet with Brandish 3 times about Glory Girl's excessive property damage. Bigger than the month in 2007 when the Teeth tried to retake territory they lost in the 90s.

Hell, it would be bigger than when Clockblocker decided to announce his name as 'Clockblocker' at his Wards debut, rather than the PR-approved 'Stop Watch'.

So, Emily Piggot had a headache.

She grabbed the shield that was laying on her desk, analyzing the defensive tool. It was a very simple design, a Greek round shield, but built very professionally. The sword lying next to it had a similar level of craftsmanship and was very sharp. The tools of someone who knew what they were doing with them.

She looked up at the armored Tinker standing at attention in front of her desk. Setting down the shield, she asked, "Any idea of her combat capabilities?"

He shook his head firmly. "No, upon asking Miss Nikos about herself, she grew very anxious and erratic. Assault prioritized calming her before questioning her."

Emily quirked an eyebrow. "Will this cause problems for our meeting?"

"No, Assault messaged me stating that Miss Nikos was successfully pacified, and did get some information about her abilities."

Emily nodded. As bad as the Protectorate Leader was at social situations, he was excellent at providing briefings.

"Well," she began, "That should be all we need to prepare. If you would stand next to my desk and send her in, please."

Armsmaster nodded, tapping at the communicator on his wrist, and moving to the right of the Director's desk, so that he could alert her about truths and lies in Pyrrha's story. Emily usually hated his lie detector; he had all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop while using it. However, she could hardly deny its value in a situation like this, where they needed to get accurate information from an easily agitated subject.

The door opened, and Assault entered first, holding the door. He seemed to be at the end of telling a story, as his gesturing concluded as he held the door, and the red haired teenager that followed him in laughed in response.

As she turned to face the Director, their eyes met, and her loose posture shifted to a much more rigid and formal style. She walked with purpose, as Assault positioned himself by the door, and sat down in the intentionally uncomfortable chair in front of her desk, putting her hands in her lap.

"Miss Nikos," Emily greeted.

Pyrrha smiled a pleasantly fake smile, one that a lesser woman wouldn't have noticed. "Please, call me Pyrrha."

"Pyrrha, then," she agreed, returning a fake smile of her own. "My name is Director Emily Piggot. Perhaps you can shed a little light on our situation here."

* * *

The first thought that Pyrrha had when she met Director Emily Piggot was 'This is the Director?'. From Assault's descriptions, she had expected Glynda Goodwitch herself to be sitting behind the desk. Instead, she found a portly woman with an ugly blond bob in an ill-fitting suit.

The second thought she had, when she met her eyes, was, 'Yes, that is most certainly a Director'. The edge in her eyes reminded her of old Huntsmen, who faced certain death and survived. They were the eyes of a woman who had nothing to fear, because she'd already feared enough.

And that was enough to gain her respect. Unfortunately, the Director did not seem to have the same opinion of her.

Pyrrha considered herself to be a good judge of character, and very good at analyzing fake expressions, due to the years she spent as a celebrity on Remnant.

Director Piggot had a very good poker face.

From what she could tell, the Director seemed to feel a sense of general contempt for Pyrrha, along with disbelief for pretty much everything she said. After almost every new piece of information, she glanced at Armsmaster, who gave her a nod every time, confirming Pyrrha's story.

The only deviation she had from dislike was when she started to talk about the Grimm. After describing them as an 'endless horde of monsters', the Director replied.

"And you have been training to fight these monsters your whole life?"

Pyrrha nodded, and another nod from Armsmaster to the Director. She glanced back at Pyrrha with, grudging respect? From that point, the Director's contempt started to subside.

"So," the Director stated, placing her hands on the desk, "Now that you've told us about your world, what can you tell us about your own capabilities? You mentioned Aura and semblance, what are those?"

"Well," Pyrrha started, glancing between the three adults standing around her. She was getting an unfortunate sense of deja vu with their positioning.

Clearing her throat to shake off the intrusive thought, she barreled on, "Well, Aura is the manifestation of your Soul, and a semblance is the expression of your Aura."

Getting a raised eyebrow in return, Pyrrha blushed and continued, "In its most basic form, Aura acts as a sort of forcefield, defending from injury, so long as it is maintained. Out of combat, it also heals any injuries sustained without Aura much quicker than normal. To the point where, as long as a Hunstman does not die, they will recover."

"Really?" Director Piggot seemed very interested in Aura now, slightly leaning over the desk with an almost desperate look in her eyes, "And is this Aura something you are born with?"

"No!" Pyrrha exclaimed, before collecting herself. "No, Aura can be unlocked in anyone, and any skill that I have is what I have earned through training."

Director Piggot glanced at Armsmaster, with her mouth slightly open. "And if I asked if you could unlock my Aura?"

Pyrrha leaned back slightly, smiling genuinely, "I would say of course."

Director Piggot spun back to Pyrrha, schooling her features, closing her eyes as if expecting bad news. "Miss Nikos, to your knowledge, would unlocking my Aura give you any form of mental influence or control over me?"

Pyrrha's eyes opened wide in shock. "No! No, of course not! Aura is a solely individual trait."

The Director snapped back to Armsmaster, who gave her a shaky nod. Piggot's face flushed with relief as she turned back to Pyrrha, schooling her features.

"We will be testing this later."

Pyrrha smiled a fake smile. "Of course."

"You mentioned something called a semblance?" The Director asked, shifting the conversation.

Pyrrha collected herself, holding her fake smile, "Yes, a semblance is a more tangible representation of your Aura. The best way I've seen it described is that 'it's what makes you special'."

The Director made a gesture, telling Pyrrha to continue. "And yours is...?"

Pyrrha glanced around the room, "May I demonstrate?"

Director Piggot responded by giving her a 'go ahead' sweep of her arms.

She nodded, closing her eyes, and concentrating on the weapons on the desk in front of her. She lifted her hands, and Miló and Akoúo̱ _flew_ into position.

The other members of the meeting jumped at the usage of her Polarity, as she explained, her eyes still closed, "My semblance is Polarity, and it gives me control over all metal in my range."

Pyrrha opened her eyes to see a wide eyed Director Piggot, and an open mouthed Armsmamster. The Director turned to Pyrrha, asking in a shaky voice, "And does anyone with an Aura gain a semblance?"

She looked up to the left, giving the appearance of thinking about the question. "Yes," she answered, "Though semblances usually manifest after years of meditation and Aura exercises."

Director Piggot and Armsmaster looked at each other with shocked expressions, before turning back to Pyrrha. The Director settled and tried to calm her expression, though a hint of excitement shined through her pressed lips.

"Unfortunately," the Director started, "That is all the time we have to brief on your abilities without power testing." She cleared her throat. "The Parahuman Response Team has jurisdiction over your situation at the moment, Pyrrha, and, as Director, I would like to extend the invit-"

"No."

Director Piggot froze, looking back at the Huntress.

"No?"

Pyrrha steeled herself, straightening her back, and meeting the Director's eyes.

"The last time I was in a situation just like this, I accepted the deal without thinking. And...and I died for it." Pyrrha felt her face grow wet. "I'm not going to make that mistake again. I'll be happy to think about it, but not right now."

Emily looked up to Assault who had a serious expression on his face and was stubbornly shaking his head. She sighed, "Very well, I will wait to invite you to the Protectorate for the moment. How does a week sound?"

Pyrrha's face betrayed her relief. "Very good, thank you."

The Director looked behind Pyrrha to the red suited man back to his position against the wall. "Assault, would you mind taking Pyrrha to an empty guest room?"

He nodded, "No problem, bosslady. C'mon kid, you should probably get some sleep."

Pyrrha followed Assault out of the room, her shoulders dropping as the door closed, and let out a huff of breath. "That was nerve-wracking."

Assault clapped her shoulder. "Oh, come on, the Director _loved_ you."

She glanced up at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yep!" He declared. "Especially when you started talking about the Grimm, and I think she was going to kiss you when you told her that anyone could have an Aura."

"Why's that?"

Assault glanced around the hallway to make sure nobody was listening, and pulled Pyrrha closer. "So, it's a little bit of a sensitive topic, but the Director used to be a field agent, but had to retire after a mission against a guy they call Nilbog."

"Nilbog?"

"Yeah, it's goblin backwards."

Pyrrha mouthed the word, before her eyes brightened in realization. "Oh, right."

"So, basically, Nilbog has the power to create monsters out of people's bodies, and the whole mission was a disaster. The whole 'endless hordes of monsters' thing probably made you some kind of kindred spirit in her mind. The Director doesn't exactly like parahumans."

He made a thoughtful noise. "Though, I guess you aren't really a parahuman, so that wouldn't matter."

"Why not?" Pyrrha asked. "What's different?"

Assault glanced at his watch. "We really don't have time tonight. It's getting kinda late, and Puppy's gonna be waiting for me at home, angry. I was supposed to be there an hour ago. Pick it up tomorrow?"

Pyrrha smiled at him, a politely fake smile this time. "Sure, where's that guest room?"


	4. Chapter 1-4

**PLEASE RE-READ 1.2. EDITS WERE MADE TO FIT THE CONTENT OF THIS CHAPTER.**

 **AN: Had a busy as fuck week last week, wanted to get something written. Finally sat my ass down during the Pens game (haha get fucked Caps) and wrote this out. Wanted to slow the pacing after a fast three chapters. Hope you guys enjoy.**

 _The air was filled with dust, rubble all around her, the sounds of explosions and gunfire in the distance._

 _The massive dragon flapped its wings, landing on the ruined top of Beacon Tower, letting out a caw of victory._

 _High heels clicking against the ground pulled her away from the sight. Pyrrha snapped her head over to see Cinder walking slowly towards her, each step filled with purpose and confidence._

 _She stopped next to her, reaching down with her hand. Pyrrha realized she was on her knees. Cinder lifted Pyrrha's chin, her eyes filled with malevolent fire. She smirked at her._

 _"My, my, little hero, aren't you far from home"_

Pyrrha's eyes opened with a snap, her breathing heavy, and her hair slick with sweat. Pulling herself up, her head swiveled as she searched the room. Right, she was at the, what was it called...PRT building. Right. Yes.

She threw the covers of her plain bedspread across the bed, swinging over the side of the bed and hopping off. The room around her was rather plain, with slightly off-white walls, no decoration, and only a few windows giving a view of the city-Brockton Bay-starting to wake up.

The whole room was about the size of their team dorm room, and her heart hurt a little at the comparison.

Shaking off the thought, Pyrrha made her way towards the bathroom on the side of the room, stripping off the pajamas that were given to her. She felt uncomfortable with the fact that they said 'Assault' all over them. From what he told her about his job, being a hero, it seemed like they were Earth Bet's version of Huntsmen, except this made them feel more like tournament fighters to her.

Turning the knob, she felt the cold water rush over her, filling her with tense energy. Pyrrha let the water pour over her as it rose in temperature, until it was comfortably hot. She poured some of the shampoo into her hand, another plain, unmarked bottle, and lathered her hair.

Pyrrha wasn't exactly comfortable with the celebrity worship that herself and a lot of her fellow students received for their fighting skills. They were training to defend the world from evil, not fight for sport in an arena.

Sighing, Pyrrha finished washing herself, scrubbing away whatever dirt she had gotten on her in the alley where she was found. For some reason, she didn't have any signs of her d-the battle-on her. No dirt, no sweat, no hole in he-

No.

No, it wasn't productive to think like that.

She had to stay in the present. Work on figuring out what she was going to do here, before she could try to get home.

Steeling herself, Pyrrha turned off the water, and stepped out to dry herself off.

The towels were scratchy.

* * *

As she stepped back into the room, putting on the lightweight workout clothes she had been given the previous night, Pyrrha noticed a note had been slid under the door.

It was handwritten, with neat, clean handwriting, and read:

 _Hello, Pyrrha_

 _I will be the one assisting you today, since Assault will not be coming in today. Whenever you are ready, please dial 7-*-002 on the phone in your room, and I'll come over. Just wear the clothes you were given yesterday, we would like to test your abilities today, if that is alright with you._

 _Thank you,_

 _Miss Militia_

The names were another thing. She didn't really understand what Assault was talking about, when he was talking about the costumes and names. Sure, sometimes Pyrrha wished that she could just put on a mask, and go out in public, but Assault was genuinely _surprised_ that Pyrrha didn't have a mask. What did these people need to hide? What was so bad about being a hero, that they felt the need to hide?

Why did they have to be the celebrities they seemed to be?

Pyrrha sighed. There was no point in thinking about it now, perhaps this Miss Militia could help to shed light on her inquiries. Stepping over to the 'phone', she dialed the sequence, and listened to the dial tone.

The 'phone' itself was strange. The numbers kinda looked like a Scroll, but they were _actual_ buttons, not just a touch pad. It had the same kind of setup, but she felt weird about a whole new device created just to talk to people.

The dial tone cut out, and the answer was prompt and sharp. " _Hello, this is Miss Militia, how can I help you?_ "

Pyrrha's voice was oddly nervous, "Oh, yes, hello, this is Pyrrha? You left a note under my door?"

The female voice on the other end picked up in cheer, "A _h, right, of course, Pyrrha, I'll be right over._ " A beep sounded over the phone to signal the end of the call.

Looking again at the odd invention, Pyrrha shook her head, putting the phone back on the holder. They probably wanted her to spar with someone, and she had time to do her daily warm-up exercises.

* * *

"Forty-three...forty-four...forty-five..."

Pyrrha pumped up and down, back held flawlessly straight with each push-up. It was the fifth exercise in her light warm-up, and she'd be good for some light fights. It was nowhere near her pre-tournament warm-up, but she doubted that she had an hour to spend on working out, and then another hour for relaxing.

"Forty-six...forty-seven...forty-eight..."

A knock at the door interrupted her concentration for a moment, pausing at the top of her plank position to glance up and call out, "Come in!"

"Forty-nine...fifty!"

Pyrrha bounced onto her shins, pulling herself up to see a dark skinned woman in an olive green military uniform. She had an odd scarf wrapped around her lower face as a disguise, a combination of white stars on blue background and red and white stripes. The woman, presumably Miss Militia, was very fit, with hair cut short, and very sharp, analytical eyes.

And, Pyrrha noted with some satisfaction, she was armed with a small handgun at her waist.

Upon meeting Pyrrha's eyes, Miss Militia's hazel pair immediately softened with practiced ease, though it did seem to be a genuine gesture.

"Pyrrha Nikos, I assume?" She spoke pleasantly, humor evident in her voice, as she outstretched her hand.

Pyrrha met her hand with a firm grip, chuckling lightly, "And you are Miss Militia?"

Miss Militia pulled back, laughing a little herself, "That would be me. You ready for testing? I assume they want to check your abilities before they try to recruit you sometime this week."

Calling her weapons to her side, Pyrrha stepped next to Miss Militia. "What do you mean try? The Director already asked yesterday."

Miss Militia tensed dangerously for a moment, and Pyrrha shifted into a combat ready position at the reaction, before the other woman forced herself to relax.

Pyrrha frowned, "Why, is that a problem? Was I supposed to say yes?"

"No!" She exclaimed, "No, not at all." Her eyes narrowed, "The Director and I are going to have _words_ later."

Pyrrha gulped, as Miss Militia said 'words' as others would say 'a fight to the death'.

Noticing the girl standing next to her, Miss Militia cleared her throat, "Oh, um, don't worry, Pyrrha, you did nothing wrong." Chuckling nervously, she offered, "So, power testing?"

 **AN: I hate the Mama Militia fanon characterization. Miss Militia is a strong willed character who's sympathetic side comes from the fact that she was a Kurdish child soldier. She's got edge. Plus, a big no-no for her is forcing children to fight.**


	5. Chapter 1-5

**1.5**

Hannah saw.

Nobody truly understood how important memory could be. Slight changes to everyday events changed the perception of life. Forgotten conversations could ruin a relationship. A mistaken history book could change the world.

And nobody grasped how important _remembering_ was.

 _Thinker 1_ , she snorted at the thought. Eiditic memory was rated less than her ability to never sleep, how ridiculous that was. People always forget how much they forgot, and they all forgot just how much they missed.

As she watched the teenage girl talk to the power researcher, she put together all the little clues she remembered, building a profile for the, if she was to be believed, dimensionally-displaced girl.

The way her smiles never reached her eyes, the way she shied away from contact, the slight tensing of her muscles with every motion of those around her. From how she stood up from her exercises to how she talked to the researcher.

Every little clue put together the profile of someone who had experience hiding themselves. Her facade was perfect, almost nobody would believe that, behind the polite, graceful Pyrrha Nikos was a scared little girl.

But, where Hannah saw, Hana _understood_.

She was briefed by Assault about Pyrrha before she met the girl. He had told her that she was jumpy, that she was prepared to fight when she first met him. Ethan believed that it was merely the shock of being on a new world after, according to her, literally dying.

Hannah shuddered at the thought of the teenage girl being in the position where she would face death and be this composed.

She had been told about her world, Remnant. Filled with Grimm, the literal personification of evil and darkness, with children being trained to fight and defend their world. It made Miss Militia want to go to this world, and join the hunt. To drive out all that the darkness had to offer, to protect those like Pyrrha from the horror of war before their time.

Hannah recognized the mask that Pyrrha was wearing. It was professionally designed, built to be disarming, but aloof. Charming, but distant. The mask of someone who was separated from the world by their experiences. Considering how common combat was on their world, it couldn't have been the Grimm, but, nonetheless, the mask pained her to look at it.

It reminded her of the one she wore long ago.

Miss Militia watched as the researcher left the room, sealing the door behind him, leaving the PRT officer who volunteered to have his Aura unlocked alone in the room with Pyrrha.

As she watched the girl gracefully walk over to where he was sitting, lifting him up and putting her hand on his shoulder, Hana felt her heart pang as she saw the terrified little girl, coming to America after surviving the Turkish invasion. She saw the remnants of the girl whose mind broke as she started to walk into the minefield, prodded along by the soliders' guns.

She saw herself in Pyrrha Nikos, and that was something no teenager should have to endure.

Miss Militia felt her fist clench at the thought of Director Piggot trying to recruit her immediately. Pulled from her own world, alone and scared, and the portly woman decides the best course of action is to try to browbeat her into the Protectorate. Hell, she didn't even know if Pyrrha was 18 or not.

It didn't matter, as long as she was a good fighter.

As she watched Pyrrha and the volunteer begin to glow, Hannah promised to protect this child.

Hana would never forgive her if she didn't.

XXX

Eyes closed, her crimson Aura flaring, she finished the chant, " **...I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee.** "

Slightly drained, and huffing a little, Pyrrha pulled away from Sergeant Thompson with a small smile. As she blinked, watching the man look reverently at his still glowing hands, her vision blurred.

Confused, she put her hands to her face, feeling the wetness trail down her cheeks.

She was crying.

Huh.

She was pulled from her reverie by the exclamation of the volunteer, "Oh, god, I feel great!"

Pyrrha blinked away the water from her eyes, chuckling at the man's honestly excited reaction. It reminded her of Jaune when she unlocked his Aura...

The door opened behind her as Dr. Houston walked back in. "Sergeant!" He called out, "How're you feelin'?"

The man in question snapped his gaze to the approaching researcher as Pyrrha did as well, tracking the researcher's path to the center of the room. "Absolutely fantastic," he responded cheerfully, "Haven't felt this good in years."

Dr. Houston chuckled, "Alright, Sergeant, time to hop in the tank. You know the routine."

Thompson's jaw clicked shut as he gathered himself, seemingly thrown off by the comment. "Right, right, forgot about that. Ugh, that's gonna suck."

As the doctor started to lead the volunteer out of the room, Pyrrha grasped the researcher's shoulder. "Is he going to be alright?"

The doctor jumped a little, then turned to face Pyrrha chuckling, "Oh, he'll be fine. Just protocol for any power enhancing abilities to be tested for Master influence. The boss seems to think that you're telling the truth about have no negative effects, so this should just be a formality."

Pyrrha's mouth frowned a little. From what she had gathered about Master effects, they were considered the most dangerous for Villains to have. The fact that they were testing her for them made her feel a little nervous, despite the fact that she knew she had none.

Also, they reminded her far too much of her match with Penny...

 _A sea of swords, flying towards her. Pushing back, saving herself, only for the swords to disappear, revealing a broken machine_.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and threw her out of her memory, a quick turn showing Miss Militia's masked visage. Her eyes were alight with concern.

"Are you alright, Pyrrha?" She asked.

Pyrrha felt her mask return, giving a polite smile in return, "Yes, I was simply thinking."

Miss Militia didn't seem convinced, but she let the issue drop, which Pyrrha was thankful for. She didn't want to think of Remnant right now. She could do that later.

"If you're up for it," she began slowly, "Armsmaster did want to test your combat capabilities."

Pyrrha's face brightened, "A spar?" Fighting, that she could do.

Miss Militia nodded, "If you felt up for it."

Filled with new energy, Pyrrha pulled her weapons to her wrists, smiling up at the masked woman. "I most certainly am."

XXX

"Where are the others?"

Pyrrha looked around the square arena confused. The only person on the other side was Armsmaster, armed with a halberd and his blue and white armor.

He frowned at her, "What do you mean? Everyone who is able to watch is in the observation room?"

"I mean," she started, "You're the only one I'm fighting?"

His body language took a sharper, more hostile edge. Ready to attack, Pyrrha surmised, he felt threatened?

"Why would you be fighting more people than me?" He asked gruffly.

Remembering that nobody here knew of her reputation as the world's best tournament fighter, Pyrrha flushed in embarrassment at her arrogant statement.

"Uh," she froze, "Never mind that. Let us start. Do you require me to dull my blade?"

Armsmaster harrumphed, "My suit is rated for combat up to Brute 6. I'll be fine."

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed at the hidden challenge, setting herself into an offensive stance. "If you insist."

She wanted to be on the offensive in this fight. Armsmaster's halberd would give him the range advantage, unless she shifted to _xiphos_ form. But, then he'd be able to push Milo away, and be free to fight her with fists. She very much wished to avoid fighting hand to hand with a man in powered armor.

Plus, she didn't have much Dust rounds, only what was in the magazine inside her weapon. From what she had seen, Earth Bet did not run on Dust, as fantastical as that sounded, thus she could not resupply.

" _3_ ", the speakers in the rather large sparring arena sounded, " _2...1...Begin!_ "

Pyrrha started by dashing forwards with an Aura-enfused step, shield at the ready, and sword cocked. Armsmaster reacted instantly, shifting his weapon to a blocking position. Their weapons met with a loud _clang_ and Pyrrha went to work with the opening he'd given her in his defensive start.

A wide shield bash forced him to drop his halberd down to parry the low blow, while bringing his other arm up to defend against her sword slashing downwards. He brought his halberd up, the tip facing her face, and Pyrrha felt a trigger start to pull with her passive metallic-sense.

She yelped, giving a slight nudge to the halberd, as well as the electrically charged projectile that zoomed out of the top of the pole, and spinning out of the way.

Pyrrha reset herself in a more defensive position, shield raised and sword in tight. She suddenly remembered how Assault was describing his own ability to manipulate kinetic energy during dinner. From the way he talked about it, and the fact that he did not have a weapon in costume, it seemed like he fought mostly with his abilities, rather than in conjunction with a weapon. It was foolish for Pyrrha to assume that Armsmaster would fight any differently, even though he used a weapon.

Armsmaster was a Tinker style cape, meaning he fought with the highly advanced technology that he could create. So, Pyrrha had no idea what to expect from his halberd.

She would have to employ more of her Polarity than normal to effectively duel here.

Taking a step forwards, Pyrrha spun her shield towards Armsmaster, directing it to where he could parry the hunk of metal with his halberd, giving her an opening to dash in and regain the offensive.

An upwards slash was blocked with the pole of the halberd, though she pushed a little with her Polarity to send him slightly off balance, where Akouo came back in towards his legs, blasting him upwards with assistance from her Polarity. All of the individual gears and electronics inside the suit prevented her from safely manipulating the armor, but wide pushes she could do.

Falling out of the air, spinning to regain balance as quickly as possible when he fell, Pyrrha didn't give him the opportunity to recover, a powerful donkey kick powered by Aura and Semblance sending Armsmaster crashing into the wall.

Returning to her usual victory pose, with shield arm up, and sword arm pointing back, she recalled her weapons, forcefully shifting them back to their holstered positions.

Feeling proud of her victory, and excited that the teleportation didn't affect her ability to fight, Pyrrha couldn't hold back the elated smile that spread across her face, as Armsmaster groaned back to his feet.

 **AN: Miss Militia isn't _wrong_ in her analysis of Pyrrha, but she is most certainly not 100% correct. Pyrrha is hiding her real feelings, but she is significantly stronger emotionally than Hannah thinks. Glad to finally get this up after a month of crazy shit happening to my schedule.**


	6. Chapter 1-6

1.6

 _One, two, three_

It had been almost a week since she arrived in Brockton Bay.

 _Four, five, six_

One more day til she had to decide whether or not to join the Protectorate.

 _Seven, eight, nine_

A week since she d-died.

 _Ten, eleven, twelve_

She wanted to join, she did. It sounded good. Be a hero, help protect people, it sounded just like being a Huntress.

 _Sounded_ like.

Pyrrha couldn't shake the feeling that the Protectorate and PRT weren't as good as they seemed. She had experience with illusions, hell, she practically was one herself as the Invincible Girl. Pyrrha knew that idyllic heroism wasn't a thing. All there was, was _action_.

 _Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen._

She racked the bar above her, sitting up, and taking a large swig of the water bottle she had next to her. The PRT had a rather comprehensive gym, though few people other than her were in it at the moment.

She spent the week keeping in shape and learning as much about the world as she could. With every little tidbit she found about her current predicament, the PRT and Protectorate both gained and lost a point.

A news report about Protectorate heroes stopping a gang fight? Point for.

Comments about how they didn't do much, and that the media gave them too much credit? Point against.

The Wards, the junior superhero team, visiting a local high school? Point for.

Learning about how the community outreach they do is scheduled to a T and part of their requirements for being in the Wards? Point against.

It went like that for a while. Everything she found seemed to be good but with a little 'but' attached to it. Pyrrha could live with the 'but'. If they were a well-intentioned group, that was tied a little bit to not be perfect, she could deal with that. She just couldn't tell if there was _more_ to it.

She talked to Miss Militia about the Protectorate after her spar with Armsmaster, which didn't really help. For all that Miss Militia seemed angry about her being recruited right away, the older woman seemed to adore the group. Everything she said seemed to come directly out of the press reports she'd found online. The Protectorate was great. The Protectorate was just. The Heroes would save the day.

And that _meeting_. It reminded her so much of the meeting she had with Ozpin about becoming the Maiden, even down to how they _stood_. You had the leader at the desk, sitting across from you, with a seat that lifted them higher than you. You had the stern second in command standing at attention just behind and to the side of the leader. You even had the roguish person in the back, 'apart' from the group.

Pyrrha had died once for making a decision with haste, she couldn't bear to do so again.

But was she being too paranoid? Was the Protectorate what they seemed to be?

She was about to sigh, when a young voice spoke up behind her.

"So, you're the one who kicked Armsmaster's ass."

XXX

Sophia was curious.

When they were getting briefed on Pyrrha Nikos, she wasn't really paying attention. I mean, sure, from a different dimension, that was kinda cool, but Sophia didn't really care. She hadn't joined yet, and she was 18 anyways, nothing for her to worry about.

She asked Miss Militia if she could hold her own in a fight, and that's when she learned that Pyrrha Nikos kicked Armsmaster's ass in 20 seconds flat.

 _Then_ , she was interested.

Sophia respected strength, plain and simple. And Armsmaster was the strongest out of everyone in the goddamn building. Well, not technically both buildings, 'cause the Wards got moved to the PRT building after some bullshit with Piggy, and the Protectorate was still on the Rig, but still. She respected Armsmaster's strength. Even if he _was_ a raging asshole.

If she could just _dominate_ Armsmaster like that, _and_ she was only 18. Maybe, just maybe, she could be someone like her.

And so, she arrived at the PRT building half an hour earlier than usual, donned her costume, and went out to find her.

After checking the room she was given, to no avail, she checked the next place a potential predator might be. The gym. It was usually where Sophia herself ended up after a boring console shift, or a long day at school. She wasn't the _biggest_ fan of pumping iron, but she made use of the strength and conditioning programs the PRT offered the Wards.

She walked into the gym, spotting a woman with bright red hair over on the bench press machine, steadily pushing through a set, and racking the bar. Damn, that was good form. Even though she didn't lift, she could respect some goo-Holy shit was that _300 pounds?!_

Sophia recognized the large 100 pound weights, that she hadn't seen anyone use beyond a squat or dead-lift, with another 25 on each side of the 50 pound bar. Oh, _hell_ yes, she was gonna talk to this chick.

"So, you're the one who kicked Armsmaster's ass," she called out in a complimentary tone as she stepped up. Sophia had a knowing smile on her face, as Pyrrha turned around.

Her faced brightened as she noticed her costume. "Oh, hello there! You're Shadow Stalker, yes? Of the Wards?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. Did she seriously not know who sh-wait, right, from a different dimension. Forgot about that.

She realized she'd been just standing there for a minute, not saying anything, and she jumped back to respond, "Oh, uh, yeah, that's me."

Pyrrha stood up, and Sophia realized just how much taller she was and just how _ripped_ she was. Did this girl fight giant bears for a living or something, cause god- _damn_ she was built.

"I would shake your hand," Pyrrha started, "but unfortunately mine are a little dirty right now."

Sophia looked down at the aforementioned appendages, seeing the calloused and roughened fingers beneath the layers of lifting chalk and sweat. She started salivating, those were the hands of a hunter.

Suddenly, her mouth was a little dry. She coughed lightly, "So, uh, you're gonna be joining up, yeah?"

Pyrrha pursed her lips, "I'm not sure yet, I still haven't decided whether or not it is a good fit for myself."

Oh shit, she _needed_ to get her to join the team. As long as she had someone like her waiting in the Protectorate, she could bear the next two years of dealing with the fuckin' kids.

"Ah," she started, shrugging in an attempt to seem nonchalant, "for, uh, for what it's worth, I think you should do it."

The two stood in silence for a moment. Sophia, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, started to leave, "I'm just gon-"

"What do you think of the program."

-And spun directly back as Pyrrha interrupted her. She was staring directly at her with vibrant green eyes, questioning. No, interrogating. Damn, this girl was definitely a predator.

Her costume suddenly felt very hot, and she tried harder to seem relaxed. "Eh, the other Wards are kinda annoying, and Piggy's a bitch-"

"Who?"

"Oh, uh," Sophia stopped lamely, "Director Piggot."

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed a little, her tone growing accusing, "You should show the Director more respect."

Sophia nearly choked. Respect? Piggy? Was this predator nothing but some-some goody two shoes? The fuck was she seeing before? No, no, it couldn't be that. It had to be some military shit. Blind respect for authority. Yeah, that was it.

"Yeah, right, uh, Director Piggot's a, um, yeah." She shook her head, desperate to change the subject and make a good impression on Pyrrha. "But, uh, at the end of the day, we do get the bad guys, so it's not that bad.

"And besides," she added, "They are the ones in charge and they're public, so none of that shady bullshit that you get with villains."

Pyrrha seemed to think about that for a moment, before responding. "I...thank you, Shadow Stalker. You helped me come to a decision." She stepped around her, patting her shoulder, ignoring the fact that her hands _were_ rather dirty. "Thanks."

Pyrrha walked out of the gym, and Sophia let out a breath she had been holding, her heartbeat racing. Fuck that girl was intense. She looked like she could have killed her 20 different ways with a fucking spoon. Goddamn.

Sophia shook herself off, and went back to the Wards room.

 **AN: Oooh, someone's got a bit of a crush. Sophia is a weird person, both fiercely independent and lonely as all hell. Trying to do unreliable narrator is hard, hopefully that was visible. Pyrrha's not that scary, Sophia just sees life similarly to Rachel with body language and shit.**


End file.
